


setting fire to the rain

by sixofclarkes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy Blake is a History & Mythology Nerd, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Movie Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixofclarkes/pseuds/sixofclarkes
Summary: “Bell’my?” she whispered, rubbing at her eyes. “When’d you get back?”“You forget tonight is the first night of my Christmas break stay?” he teased, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.Clarke blinked the sleep out of her eyes, peering up at him through her eyelashes, and shaking her head. “I just fell asleep waiting for you to go get Tangled from the pickup ‘cause you’re slow.”Bellamy let out a surprised laugh at that. “That took like ten minutes max. No idea how you managed to fall asleep so quickly.”She rolled over, leaning her head onto his lap.“The bed was comfy, can you blame me?” she grumbled, cuddling closer. “And you’re like a furnace, which makes this even better.”.Bellamy and Clarke spend Christmas Eve together, and feelings are accidentally shared.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 72





	setting fire to the rain

It was almost 8:30 when Bellamy made it back to Clarke’s apartment to find his best friend gone from the main room and the only light coming from the TV, which showed the final credits of the Criminal Minds. It was almost eerily quiet, only the sound of the fan in the corner providing any sort of comfort.

Bellamy snorted at the realization that she had probably fallen asleep waiting for both him and the noodles on the stove.

Quickly offering a glance over at them as he set the bag that was slung over his shoulder on the counter, he saw that they were beginning to steam. Nodding to himself, Bellamy made his way down the hall to Clarke’s room. He figured the food should be ready by the time he got her up.

“Hey,” he said softly, pushing open the door to Clarke’s room to find her curled up on the bed in her soft blue unicorn onesie, sleeping gently. A small smile grew on his face at the sight of her.

The thought crosses his mind that she must have changed while he was outside getting his things, into the onesies that they save for special occasions like this one. 

Hesitantly, he made his way over to her bed, settling down next to her. Immediately, she curled up to his warmth.

“Bell’my?” she whispered, rubbing at her eyes. “When’d you get back?”

“You forget tonight is the first night of my Christmas break stay?” he teased, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. 

Clarke blinked the sleep out of her eyes, peering up at him through her eyelashes, and shaking her head. “I just fell asleep waiting for you to go get Tangled from the pickup ‘cause you’re slow.”

Bellamy let out a surprised laugh at that. “That took like ten minutes max. No idea how you managed to fall asleep so quickly.”

She rolled over, leaning her head onto his lap.

“The bed was comfy, can you blame me?” she grumbled, cuddling closer. “And you’re like a furnace, which makes this even better.”

He smirked. “The noodles should be ready by now, huh?”

With a dramatic groan, Clarke slowly sat up, arching her back out like a cat as she pushed the hair out of her eyes and leaned in to put her head under a chin. He froze in surprise, before relaxing into her warmth, and after a minute she gave a soft whine as he tried to pull away.

After a long moment, she finally pulled herself away, leaning back against the bed frame.

“The noodles _are_ ready,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice that Bellamy immediately recognized as her wanting something.

At that, Bellamy laughed. “You want anything, Griffin?”

“I mean, cuddles sound pretty good right now,” Clarke said in a sing-song voice as she played with a string hanging from the sweater he was wearing. “Getting up to get the food is a hassle. And you need your onesie, Bell.”

“I’ll get changed then, and then we can watch Tangled and eat pasta?” he asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. She sighed, but Bellamy could tell she was still teasing him.

“You drive a hard bargain, Blake,” Clarke finally relented. He did a little fist pump and before she could react, he swept her up bridal-style, taking care not to nail her with the DVD case. She immediately burst out into giggles as Bellamy carefully opened the door with his foot and carried her out into the main room.

He gently set her down on the couch and handed her the case that lay next to his bag. “You wanna start collecting pillows while I get changed and grab the food?”

She nodded, excitement flashing in her eyes, and before he could stop himself, Bellamy bent down and gently kissed her forehead. Clarke stilled underneath him and he could hear her breath catch softly.

Bellamy let his eyes close for a second, just enjoying being close to her, but when he felt her move her arms to try and pull him down next to her, he pulled away. They were touchy people around each other, but forehead kisses were new. A line they had never crossed up until now, and he wasn’t sure how she would react to it being crossed. 

He laughed as she made a face and made motions at him to try to get him to come back.

“So needy,” he hummed, tugging at a strand of her hair. She grumbled underneath him, but after another long moment, pulled away and tossed a pillow at him.

“Go make yourself useful and stop teasing me,” she grumbled, muffled under the other pillow she had accidentally smothered herself under.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow in response. “You’ve been sleeping while I went and got the movie I left in my car by accident, as well as all the work for my students that I need to do if I’m staying here for Christmas break. We are not the same.”

Clarke whined, almost falling off the couch in an attempt to try to get out from under the pillow on top of her. “ _Fine_ ,” she muttered. “I’ll make the fort while you do your shit. Deal?”

He nodded, reaching out a hand to help her up.

“Thanks,” she muttered, dusting herself off, and then reached over and grabbed his pinky, latching it around her own smaller finger. “May the best winner… win.”

“Wait,” Bellamy protested, caught off guard. “Win what?”

She offered a small smirk as she took off, moving all the chairs into a shape that resembled the outlines of a growing fort.

“I guess we’ll see when I win, hm?”

Bellamy hurried back to her room, grabbing the bright yellow pineapple-looking onesie that Clarke had bought him for his birthday, just a couple days prior. They always saved his birthday presents until Christmas, but he managed to get one or two early every year.

He pulled off his shirt, quickly undressing himself down to his underwear and slipping the outfit on, and flopping the hood over his head before making his way out the door.

Without looking over at how Clarke’s fort was coming along, he made his way over to the stove, lifting off the lid of the pan to check the ravioli. It was definitely ready, floating at the top of the heated water.

“You better hope you’re hurrying over there,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m basically ready over here, plates just need to be laid out.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the soft sound of Clarke singing under her breath- probably a Katy Perry song- to find her looking up at him from under a fully completed fort.

“How-”

Serenely, she tilted her head and smirked. “I’m the pillow fort master, Bell.”

At that, he let out a loud laugh. “I mean, that’s true, but this has to be your record when it comes to fort building, Griff.”

Bellamy turned back to the food, carefully moving some ravioli onto two plates. “Can you put the movie on, so we can start it soon?” he asked over his shoulder. He heard a muffled “fine” from behind him and he snorted.

Finally, he turned back around and made his way over to Clarke, carefully balancing the plates in his hands so that neither the silverware or the food fell. She reached up from where she was sliding the CD in with one hand to take her food into her other.

“Thanks,” she murmured, closing the DVD player and moving back into the comfort of the fort. Clarke snuggled up to him and he immediately laid down his bowl to wrap his arms around her and pull her even closer.

“This is nice,” she murmured after a moment, as _Tangled_ started up. “We should really do this more often.”

He reached around her to grab the plates, balancing them on the blankets in front of them as the first clip of Mother Gothel began to play. “Build pillow forts or watch Tangled on Christmas Eve?”

“Yes,” she muttered, making a grabby motion to get him to give her the food. Bellamy finally obliged, pushing it ever so slightly closer so she could reach,

As the flower scene came to an end, and the film jumped to present time, Clarke put her down next to her and leaned her head back on his shoulder, looking up at him. “The ravioli is really good, Bell.”

He pressed his nose into her hair, closing his eyes and relaxing. “Glad you like it for once, picky Princess.”

“I like anything you cook,” she argued. “This is just really exceptionally good.”

“Sure,” he said as Flynn started running from the fugitive brothers and the horse. “Whatever you say.”

She whined, trying to push back into him. “You know you’re such a good cook, Blake. Master Chef would kill to have you, c’mon.”

“If I ever need a job in thirty or so years when I retire from teaching, and if Master Chef is still on,” Bellamy said, gently tickling her ribs, “I’ll try and remember this exact conversation.”

Clarke nodded, seemingly self-assured. “Good. Now let’s actually, like, watch the movie.”

He smirked. “Something distracting you?”

Humming, she turned her focus back to the pasta and _Tangled_ , pushing away his hands that were clearly starting to get her started up. “Have you even started yours yet?” she asked, clearly trying her hardest not to answer his question.

“Yup,” Bellamy beamed. “And I think it’s damn good food.”

“Shush,” she hissed, her attention clearly caught by the scene unfolding in front of them. Rapunzel had tied Flynn up for the first time and was holding the frying pan menacingly above him, ready to whack him again.

All of their friends had always said that Flynn and Rapunzel reminded them of him and Clarke, and he personally agreed, even if he would never give Raven and Miller especially the satisfaction of him admitting they were right. He and Clarke were just friends, and that was all fine and good. He didn’t need any more than that, and just because he was pathetically in love with her didn’t change the fact that she was his best friend, first and foremost.

A comfortable silence fell between them with Clarke finishing her pasta and laying her head back on his shoulder. He easily took her weight, using one arm to support her and the other to stab at his noodles while he leaned back against the couch behind them. It was quiet enough, with only the movie playing, that it might have seemed like one or the both of them dozed off for a few minutes.

It’s when Rapunzel and Flynn arrived in the tavern that Bellamy spoke next.

“So can you tell me what you got for me?” he murmured, poking at her to get her attention. Clarke shifted, looking back at him with a surprised little frown at the interruption from her movie, but it quickly shifted into a teasing grin.

“Only if you say what you got me,” she said in a sing-song voice, stretching out over him. He grunted, vaguely amused.

“So that’s how we’re playing this, Princess?” he asked, popping the last piece of pasta into his mouth. She nodded, giving him a challenging look.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

That was another part of how the two of them had always celebrated Christmas: opening the presents right at midnight instead of in the morning. They had started it after Bellamy had caught Clarke frantically wrapping his presents at one in the morning on Christmas a few years back, as a way to stop her procrastination, and so far it had worked.

Clarke let out a little huff, focusing on the movie again. After another minute, she asked another question that caught him by surprise.

“Do you like doing this every year?”

“Huh?’ Bellamy asked, taken by surprise.

“I mean, like, coming over every single year to watch _Tangled_ on Christmas Eve with me,” she pressed. Bellamy recognized the genuine worry in her eyes and realized what she was saying. “Because we always do this, and we don’t have to if you don’t want to. You’re the guest here, really-”

Before she could continue, he leaned in, pressing his lips against her temple and effectively shutting her up. Like he had earlier, he let himself relax into her easy presence.

“Of course I want to do this,” he said softly into her hair, holding her close. “There’s not a single place on Earth I would want to be that’s not here, watching one of the best Disney movies ever with my best friend in the world, the night before Christmas.”

“Ok, Clement Moore,” she grumbled lightheartedly, wriggling out from underneath him. At the look of confusion on his face, she giggled and explained. “Clement Clarke Moore, the guy who wrote The Night Before Christmas.”

Bellamy laughed loudly at that, a stark contrast to the angsty scene playing on screen with Rapunzel and Flynn trapped in the flooding cave. “Is my best friend a secret English nerd and I never knew? We’ve known each other for almost a decade, Griffin, and I’m just finding this out.”

Clarke flushed, slapping him lightly. “You aren’t the only one who’s good at memorizing stuff related to history, Bell. Plus his middle name is my first name.”

“Look at you,” he said teasingly, gently pulling on the ends of her hair. “Redefining gender stereotypes, one name at a time.”

“Says the guy named Bellamy,” she said, giving him a deadpan stare. He shrugged, absolutely unperturbed.

“Then we’re redefining stereotypes together,” Bellamy said decidingly. “Now come back here and let me snuggle you while Rapunzel saves Flynn’s ass.”

She flipped her hair back, meeting his gaze with a look of mock outrage. “Bellamy Blake,” she started. Bellamy sighed teasingly as she continued. “Did you really just have the nerve to call Eugene _Flynn_?”

“Yeah?” he said, a hint of questioning in his voice. “Sorry to be the one to say it, Clarke, but Eugene is an absolutely _disgusting_ name.”

He smirked as she turned back to the movie with a pretentious huff. “You can just have your very notably wrong opinion then.”

“Me and my notably very wrong opinion are getting very cold over here without cuddles,” Bellamy said teasingly.

She rolled her eyes, but complied, and they fell into a companionable silence as she huddled into his warmth, their breathing quiet. By the time Flynn and Rapunzel reach the kingdom, he can hear Clarke’s breathing begin to shallow out, and by the time they were on the boat, and almost kissing under the lights, she was good and asleep, curled up on top of him.

One of her arms was slung over his chest, and her face was laying partially on his, with her hair sticking in his mouth, and their legs all knotted up from being so cramped together in the small space, but there was no place he’d rather be.

Finally, he gently shook her awake when Mother Gothel took Rapunzel back to the tower, knowing she’d want to see the upcoming scene. Clarke may not show it to most, but she was a diehard romantic at heart, and every year, without fail, cried at the big Flynn and Rapunzel scene.

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered. A soft groan but nothing else in response.

Rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation, he gently shifted, slightly displacing her from the place she had claimed on his chest, and she moved slightly down towards his hips.

“Bellamy?” she whispered, blinking her eyes. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, Princess. You did,” he said, a note of guilt coloring his voice but it was gone before she could stop and question it.

She sat up to see the screen, almost knocking Bellamy over in the process. “You didn’t wake me up for the lanterns scene?” she shrieked, and Bellamy winced.

“You looked comfortable. I wasn’t about to go and wake you up like that,” he replied, his cheeks coloring almost instantly as he fumbled with the remote to pause the film.“If you want, we can go back and rewatch it.”

Clarke sighed, the tension draining out of her when she realized that he was genuinely worried that she was upset, and reached out to gently run her hand over his arm. “It’s fine, Bellamy, don’t worry. I still get to see the most important Eugene and Rapunzel scene coming up.”

He immediately opened his mouth to correct her name for the character, but Clarke gave him the side-eye and he immediately shut his mouth.

“Got something to say, Blake?”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, just mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought,” Clarke said, nodding self-assuredly before grabbing the remote and pressing the play button again.

After a moment, he leaned over and let his lips slide across her ear. A smirk grew on his face as Bellamy felt her shiver as he whispered into her ear. “Flynn is kinda hot, don’t you think?”

She snorted at the mention of the name Flynn, but said nothing about it, only responding with “Rapunzel’s hotter, but I guess he’s cute too.”

He shrugged. “At least we can agree that they’re both hot.”

“True,” Clarke said, looking up at him with a mock-serious look. “The ultimate bisexual power couple.”

Bellamy glanced over at her, surprised. Did she mean what he thought?

But she was turned around, focusing on the TV screen that was currently showing Rapunzel confronting Gothel. He straightened, shaking his head. There was no way she could have meant what he thought she was implying, that was fine. He was just letting his feelings for her get to him.

 _Get yourself together_ , Bellamy scolded himself. 

Clarke could never actually watch Gothel stab Flynn, and like always, she averted her eyes as the scene unfolded. He squeezed her hip reassuringly and she gave him a small smile. The unicorn hood flopped ridiculously over her head and he stifled a laugh, gently reaching up to move it out of her eyes.

“The onesie is a good look on you,” he said, watching as she glanced away. Was it his imagination or was that a little blush that she was hiding?

Before he could be sure, he heard Rapunzel cry out and watched as she broke away from Gothel and ran to Flynn’s side. Nerves heightened, his grip on Clarke’s hip tightened.

She jerked back in surprise, not expecting the movement from him and knocked into the bowls that they had been eating out of, causing them to fall everywhere. Bellamy flinched at the loud sound, and when he realized what had happened, he looked around in panic.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” she hissed, scrambling to grab the dishes. Slightly dazed, Bellamy reached out to grab the nearest fork that had fallen onto the floor.

“It’s fine,” he replied, helping her quickly pick up everything. “It was my fault, not yours.”

He suddenly stopped, caught off guard when both of them reached for the same bowl at the same time. His hand covered hers, and he was taken aback by how small she was compared to him. By no means was Clarke fragile, but she was definitely petite.

Bellamy turned to apologize, only to find Clarke’s face just a couple inches from his own. Her cheeks were bright red and in the background, he was vaguely aware that Flynn - _Eugene_ and Rapunzel were talking in hushed tones as he bled out on the tower floor.

He watched, heart racing as her eyes dropped, just for a moment, to his lips, and then darted back up to meet his gaze. Fear shrouded Clarke’s gaze ever so slightly, and for that one moment, it just felt like the two of them were alone.

Carefully, he reached a hand up, giving her time to pull away, but she didn’t. Bellamy let his gaze drop to her lips as he slowly moved forward, pushing her gorgeous hair back, and accidentally knocking her hood off her head, but she didn’t give a complaint like he would have thought she would.

“Bellamy,” she whispered, and just like that, he broke, moving towards her and letting himself get lost in the kiss.

She tasted like cinnamon and a hint of the sweet-sour taste of the pasta they’d been eating, and it was better than Bellamy had ever let himself hope it would be, in all the years he’d loved her. Clarke whined as she tried to deepen the kiss, but he teasingly

After what felt like hours, Clarke was the first to pull away, Bellamy chasing after her for a moment. It was intoxicating, kissing her, and he really didn’t want to stop.

Both panting ever so slightly, she lay her forehead on Bellamy’s shoulder and it was quiet. It occurred to him that he must have missed the shot of Flynn cutting off Rapunzel’s hair, but his focus was solely on the girl in his arms as she whispered something, lost in his arm.

“What?” he asked, gently moving her back so he could hear her properly.

“You don’t have your hood,” she muttered, gently punching him in the arm. He burst out laughing, so caught by surprise at her statement.

A minute passed, and he dropped his gaze, not willing to acknowledge her reaction, which would definitely be horror at what they had just done.

“Was that ok?” Bellamy asked quietly after another moment, steeling himself for the inevitable answer. For her sake, he could deal with it just being a thing of the moment. If she didn’t want it to mean anything, it didn’t have to, but he couldn’t risk losing her.

He felt a hand on his cheek, and raised his eyes to meet her, stunned at the warmth in her gaze. The longing in her eyes that he had never let himself acknowledge, out of fear of getting his heart broken, was there still, but now there was something else that so rarely crossed Clarke’s face. Peace.

She leaned in, letting her mouth brush up against his ear and his brain short-circuited at the realization that she was doing exactly what he had done to her earlier, attempting to get to him.

“Depends on if you’re willing to do that again.”

Bellamy surged up, meeting her again for another kiss. This one was heavier, and unlike the first one, when Clarke attempted to deepen it, he let her in and she carefully shoved him back, straddling him. He let her move him to a comfortable place as she kept kissing him.

Finally, Clarke pulled away from him and he took her in. Her golden hair, which had been done in a small braid under her hood, had been undone and pieces were dangling across her face, while her lips were kiss bitten and bright red. A thrill went through him at the realization that he had done that to her.

“God, I love you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against hers. A pause, and he felt her freeze above him when he realized what he had said.

“Is that ok?” Bellamy whispered, fear coursing through his veins as he lifted his gaze to meet hers again.

She studied him for a moment, and he couldn’t tell exactly what she was thinking until after the pause continued for another moment, Clarke reached out and moved a curl out of his eyes.

“ _The Odyssey_ ,” she hummed, not looking him right in the eye.

“What?” 

“That’s what I got you for Christmas,” Clarke whispered. “Octavia helped me get the old copy that you guys shared when you were kids, they let us into your old house before it got destroyed.”

Bellamy racked his mind. “That was like…”

“Three months ago,” she said softly, giving him a small smile and getting up to grab her bag from the couch. “I’ve been keeping it for safe-keeping since September.”

He watched as Clarke carefully removed the book from her bag and made her way back to him, sitting down cross-legged in front of him and reaching the book out to him.

Bellamy took the copy into his hands, carefully turning it over in his hands to study it. It was exactly like he remembered, the old, worn cover maybe slightly more worn out than it had been when he had last seen it.

“Thank you,” he murmured, internally reeling.

He met her beautiful eyes again. _“Thank you.”_

Clarke surged to meet him, giggling as he was taken by surprise and made a little “oomph” sound.

“Thank you for everything, Bellamy,” she whispered. “Thank you for a beautiful Christmas Eve.”


End file.
